


Caught

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ass Play, Breast Play, Double Penetration, Dream Sex, F/M, Handcuffs, Object Insertion, Police Baton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 23:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Officer Winchester x reader, handcuffs





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tumbler_Tidbits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tumbler_Tidbits/gifts).



> I tried something a little different with this - the style is a little more Harlequin than Minefield. I think it’s fun.

Lights flash and I’m being pulled over. It’s dark, but I follow the rules. I’m a rule follower.

I try to slow my heart rate as I pull onto the shoulder, try to remember all the things you’re supposed to do when you get pulled over. I have my seat belt on – good. I know my insurance card and registration are in the glove box – good. Of course, I have my driver’s license.

Then he’s coming into view of my side mirror. It’s… Agent Page. The FBI agent from yesterday, asking about all those mysterious deaths.

I put my window down, waiting. He has a flashlight, scans inside my car, but doesn’t shine the light in my face.

“Evenin’,” he says. His eyes drag over the front of my sheer white blouse, down to my lap, where my pleated skirt hikes up to reveal bare knees and thigh. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asks.

“Um, no, sir?” I answer.

“Sixty-seven miles per hour in a 50 mile an hour zone,” he answers. “License and registration, please.”

I look at my speedometer as if it can tell me the truth. I never speed. I reach for my glove box, but he halts my motion with his baton.

“On second thought,” he says. “Step out of the car, please.”

My breath shakes and my brow breaks into a cold sweat. “Yes, sir,” I answer. I swallow back my fear, the stories of fake authority figures, taking advantage of women alone in cars at night.

I get out of the car as instructed and face him. He’s so big. He’s at least a foot taller than me and so broad. And he looks angry.

“I need to run your plates,” he says, motioning toward the police vehicle, escorting me to the passenger side. “But first, I need to search you – make sure you aren’t armed. Hands on the hood and legs spread.”

I do as I’m told. I’m shivering in the cool night air. I left my underwear at home and the wind is blowing up my skirt and over the thin material of my top.

His hands, rough and demanding, one gripping his baton, start their ascent at my ankles. They slowly slide up the outsides of my thighs and over my bare hips.

“What a dirty girl,” he says, his voice rough and deep. “No panties.”

Then he’s reaching for my wrists. “Looks like I’m gonna have to take you in,” he says, pulling my hands behind my back. I feel cold, steel cuffs slapping around my wrists. “Unless you wanna take _me_ in right here – right inside that dirty, wet pussy of yours.”

His hands reach around between my breasts and the passenger window of the cruiser. He yanks at my blouse and buttons fly. Then he’s cupping my breasts, pulling at my nipples. All the while, that baton is tucked into his palm, taunting me.

He pushes one big hand between my shoulder blades until my breasts are pressed against the cold, cold glass. “Your tits look gorgeous, tight nipples, pressed against the glass,” he growls in my ear, twisting my hair around his long fingers and his wrist. “I’m gonna fuck your pussy with this baton, just like you want.”

He licks the nape of my neck then bites the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. “And after you come from that, I’ll take you the way I want.”

I feel the baton slide between my wet pussy lips, over my clit. He does that several times, works me up. I’m embarrassingly wet and sloppy. I moan and buck back a little and he grips one of my breasts and pulls the nipple.

“I think you need more than just the baton, don’t you?” he whispers. “Maybe I’ll give you my cock at the same time.”

I can’t breathe now. Not correctly, anyway.

He drags me by my cuffed wrists to the trunk of my car and lifts until I’m at an angle and height that gives him the access he wants. My feet dangle and I grip the edges of my little compact car, hear his belt buckle jingling open, hear his zipper come undone.

He’s got the baton soaked with my slick and he starts running that between the cheeks of my ass. “You want the baton or my cock in your ass?”

“The baton,” I answer. I’m guessing it’s not as thick as I assume his cock is.

Then he’s rimming my ass with the end of the baton, rubbing and teasing. The trunk lid is cold against my bare torso, but he’s heating me up rapidly. He slides the baton inside, and I hiss.

God, it feels good going in slow and tight. He spits on it as he pulls it out then slides it back in.

“Now for the good stuff,” he says, guiding his cock inside my pussy. He slides in easy because I’m so wet. Before I know it, he’s gripped the chain of my cuffs and is setting a pace.

My body skitters over the trunk as he fucks me so thoroughly. All I can do is take it – the baton and him, filling me up as he yanks on my bindings.

“Yeah, take it, bad girl,” he says, hammering me. “Take your punishment hard.”

I’m so full and so light when I come screaming, but he just keeps fucking me. He won’t stop. So, I come again, helpless under his power, until he finally finds his release. With a roar, he fills me up with his heat.

I’m breathing heavy and sweating profusely as I blink awake in the morning light of my condo. My panties are soaked through and my nipples are tight peaks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself. “It was just a dream.”

I sigh and sink into my mattress, roll to my side and hug my pillow tight with one of the most satisfied smiles I’ve ever felt splitting my face.


End file.
